INSTEAD, READ THE POST WHERE IT HAS BEEN ARCHIVED AS ETERNAL PROTECTION AGAINST THE INEVITABLE DELETION AND SPOLIATION OF EVIDENCE WHICH IS THE HALLMARK OF PRIDE THAT PUNCTUATES SCHMALFELDT’S PATHETIC EXISTENCE.

But I didn’t email it for news value. There was no news value in it to me. Certainly not like the news value in publishing Aaron Walker’s home address. Certainly not anywhere near the news value in the story of Lee Stranahan’s loss of a child.

I sent the photo to Scumbag Hinckley and Scumbag Hoge. And Scumbag Carroll County, Maryland law enforcement. And Mrs. Scumbag Hinckley at a public business mailbox where anybody could read it. And Scumbag Shirley, Massachusetts law enforcement. ( I think. Maybe. I could be mis-remembering that. I might have sent it my old unit HQ 32nd MAU aboard the USS Coronado. Whatever. I don’t care.) And Scumbag Middlesex County, Massachusetts law enforcement. (I think. Maybe. I could be mis-remembering that too. I might have sent it to sex club in Yokosuka, Japan where I earned an award for my forward deployment on stage, or something. Whatever.) Please don’t insult me by suggesting law enforcement sent you the picture. There must be dozens, dare I say hundreds of other reasons and methods for insulting me.

So, either Hoge or Hinckley (or Hinckley’s wife, or someone in one of three law enforcement agencies, or anyone they might have forwarded the email to, or eight or ten or twenty layers of telephone that may or may not have been played) sent you the picture. Which you never published until it showed up in a public domain court filing, because I’m about as stupid and transparently obvious as it’s possible to be while still barely managing to stand on two legs with a rolly walker.

I included the picture because I’m an idiot who thought I could convince people I’m not a monster by showing her grace, her perfectly described “frail, put-the-camera-down-you-sick-fucking-ghoul expression,” her beauty, even in grave illness, and that I could propagate such a transparent lie as “I hoped people would start seeing her as a real human being, not an abstract target for attack.”

I wanted to convince people that my real purpose was to move the better angels of human nature, but I’ve never been one, so I don’t understand why taking a photograph of my emaciated, dying wife and emailing it to the world isn’t a particularly good idea. That tactic failed miserably. You’d think I’d be used to that after 60 years, but nope! It always comes as a surprise.

I wanted you to see the grace, the beauty, the frailty, the humanity of a human being taking leave of this world – that’s why I didn’t publish the photo for the world to see. That’s why instead I emailed it to over a dozen people with no interest whatsoever in seeing it, as a lure to see if anyone would publish it. But no one did. I don’t know why. Whatever. Never mind.

All you saw was the obvious trap. And instead you tormented me with my own stupidity. And it worked, by God!

Better than me in every way, are you Krendler?

Better than me in being a perfect example of a life spent accomplishing nothing? [I have to admit, you’ve got me there. I concede that this is one skill at which you are better than me. Happy now? – PK]

I am not a perfect man. I am a perfect nut-shuffling walking penis.

But I would never wave around a picture of a dying wife to score points. No, I would lay that picture out in the world and wait for you to do it, and then try to score points off of that.

Of all the things I’ve done, this is my lowest point. If you think this squares with my wifey for dying first and her stepson kicking me out of the showplace tincasa? Guess what. My children still won’t speak to me, and I have grandchildren I will die having never seen as a result of those broken relationships.

You showed a picture I offered to Hoge and Hinckley as bait so I could claim this very butthurt that I have caused myself like a trapper caught in his own bear trap.

As I told Hoge in my email to him and the Carroll County Sheriff, “I have never publicized this photo, so if I see it on anyone’s blog I will know Hoge is responsible.”

As I told Hinckley (actually his wife), “As your husband was one of the people suggesting that my wife’s death was a scam I was trying to pull on people, I feel you deserve to see this picture. If it gets published anywhere I will know who did it as it hasn’t been published anywhere else.”

See!?!? My purpose in sending the picture to Scumbag Hoge and Scumbag Hinckley(‘s wife) is absolutely, incontrovertibly obvious. I was tender! I was loving! I was sweet and motherfucking kind! It was all about the fucking frailty of life, the godforsaken beauty of the most disgustingly peaceful and painless death I have ever been cursed to witness!!! Can’t you see HOW OBVIOUS IT IS??? FOCUS!!!

And it was only a little tiny bit about setting a trap for anyone who saw the photo. I knew that the moment you published it there could only be one person, or maybe two, possibly three, perhaps half a dozen (of almost two dozen to whom I sent the email – twice!) who forwarded it on to you! HA! GOTCHA!!! If only someone will rat themselves out instead of fighting back against my lawfare…

It was an obscenity the moment I took it.

And in this world, and the next, I will pay.

I am human scum, and everyone knows it.

A slow painful death is what I deserve, much slower and infinitely more painful than my wife, the last person I will ever find foolish enough to waste a lifetime dealing with me for free. Dying alone, in excruciating pain, with only laughing nurses getting paid to take pictures of my writhing pain for the world to see, and no Angels of Mercy to speed me on my way; that would be a fitting end for a turd de la turd like me.

I was out of your life, except for that threat to sue you again. Gone, except for the daily visits to your blog with my new Windows 10 computer… Now, by my own bad faith and misbehavior, I have manufactured a fresh excuse. Every day, for the rest of my life, I will look for ways to punish you, to cyberstalk you, to leagally (the GS-13 writer-editor really shines through, don’t it?) harm you, to harass you, and try in vain to make you suffer as you take advantage of the endless opportunities to turn my bad behavior against me and make me look like the idiot that I am. And I will fail. Like I always have. Like I always will. Because I’m a DUMBFUCK who telegraphs my every move, making world class buttmud pies and calling them lawsuits.

See what I did? You were never going to be rid of me. Because I’m a masochist who will not stop until I am dead. Just like the Crown Jewel Grace said. And thank heavens I have nothing better to focus on, now that my doomed LOLSuit against Grady, Edgren and Hinckley will be dismissed because I just don’t have the energy to pursue it anymore (and I put that in a court filing too, which won’t be useful at all in having me declared vexatious next time I try this lame tactic).

Many, many years ago, the father of a very good friend of mine passed away very suddenly. He and his siblings traveled in from their various quarters for the funeral.

The day before the funeral, because Mother had chosen a closed casket, the children gathered at the funeral home for a final look. My friend chose not to go. His reason has always stuck with me.

“It wasn’t him. He was gone. They just went to look at the empty package.”

She’s not “coming home,” DUMBFUCK. She’s gone, and she’s not coming back. It’s not even the package she came in. It’s the scrapings from the floor of the incinerator that destroyed the package she came in.

Photographs are a better reminder. I have a particularly nice one, if anyone would like to see it.

No, she’s gone on to a better place. Which isn’t saying much; every inch further from a DUMBFUCK is a better place.